Those fluffy skies that always reminded me of cotton candy when I was a kid, those fluffy skies I still dream of taking a bath or a bounce in – as if that child is still hiding inside me, holding on, refusing to grow up – those fluffy skies are staring at me through the window. Symbolising dreams, hopes and all the wonder that carry close to your heart when travelling. Even though I’m travelling to what has become a familiar landscape over the course of just a few years, New York New York, I am still filled with wonder at what this trip will bring. I mean: It’s New York, goddammit. The place I feel more free than anywhere else in the world, the place where anything can happen. And does. New York.
Still, I have this nagging thought at the back of my mind that won’t seem to let go, rather growing stronger, adding more meat to the bone, is this really where I should be travelling? I, who pride myself upon seeing the world, have yet not experienced Africa beyond Morocco, already an emb...
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